


And That's How You Punch

by KhamanV



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Gen, Moral Lessons, Vignette, handy guide to punching nazis, quick fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-05
Updated: 2017-09-05
Packaged: 2018-12-24 07:34:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 996
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12008034
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KhamanV/pseuds/KhamanV
Summary: During one of the rare moments of downtime left to the Howling Commandos, Steve Rogers recalls his USO experience to pass a useful lesson on to tired and scared London children - how to punch a Nazi properly.





	And That's How You Punch

 

_February, 1944_

Peggy Carter watched Steve from the back of the group, a small smile that properly should have been a moderately disapproving grimace teasing at the edges of her mouth. There wasn’t much downtime any more, and it felt like ages since Steve’s last appearance on the USO, and so she didn’t quite have the heart to tear him away from his young - and young at heart - British audience.

“Now, I know what you kids are seeing at the news cinemas, but the narrators aren’t always telling you what you need to know.” Steve paced on the hard-packed dirt in front of the young, rapt faces. He was in full uniform, tall and proud, his helmet dangling from his belt by a strap. The shield was centered neatly on his back, and sometimes his elbow whanged dully against it, to little gleams of delight from the audience. For this all too brief hour, they were able to forget the firebombings and the fear. Even their parents at their sides looked at ease. Captain America was personally here to look after them all. “And I hope you _never_ need this information again.”

Steve held up a hand, palm out, and then he slowly, deliberately curled it. His thumb laid neatly along his fingers - a good brawler’s fist. “This is the first basic rule. _Never_ curl your thumb _inside_ your hand.” He unfurled his hand, reached down, and found a long bullet cartridge, a used empty. The grounds of the ad hoc shelter were full of them. “Second tip. If you can, find something like this. A little wood or metal rod, or a used bullet shell, or even a roll of coins.” He packed it into his palm, then showed them how to make a fist again. “Just like that. It reinforces your hit. If you can, wear padded gloves. You want to hurt the Nazi you’re dealing with, not yourself. If possible.”

Steve turned to Dum Dum Dugan where he hid just off stage, waiting for his cue. With a curt and serious nod, Steve gave it.

Dum Dum swaggered out, a ruined Nazi cap set jauntily on his head. He waggled his beard, setting the kids to laughing, and he boomed out to even more giggles, “Heil heil, you svine! Arrr, I am evil Nazi! Auchtung! Brautwurst! Schnitzel!”

Peggy bit her lip delicately, unable to keep herself from seeing the delighted glint in Dugan’s eye at his first star turn - and the obvious show-stealing performance he was giving. It didn’t matter to the audience that he seemed to be about sixty percent pirate instead, for whatever reason. “Heil heil, Dog Captain!” He put up his dukes at Steve, now looking more like the lore of the fighting Irish, while Steve looked at the ground, trying to muster his USO professionalism once again. “Arrrrr!”

That was it for Steve. He started laughing himself, low and rumbly. His shoulders shook, and the audience was chaos. “Dammit, Dugan,” Peggy saw him mouth at the other man. Her hand was now up to hide her lower face, the look of mixed sorrow and relief. It wasn’t just the two men. It was the audience. She watched months of tension and fear melting from them with every peal of laughter.

“Arrrr… if you are Dog Captain, come and hit me!” yelled Dum Dum, in an attempt to get the show back on course. “For I vill attack you, for Der Fofoh!”

Peggy started to shake her head as the laughter rose again, giving in with a small and growing chuckle of her own. The man was right, she knew. The second best way to defeat the Nazis was to make them a joke no one would believe in again. But the first -

Captain America swung slow and high, showing the audience the absolute best way to take a Nazi out of commission in a hand to hand fight. He gently brushed his knuckles just below Dum Dum’s temple, high on the jaw and cheek, making it look much harder than it was. Dum Dum staggered dramatically. “Ach!” he cried, and then he fell over to wild applause. Then he rolled around a while, in pretend agony.

Steve took a bow, straightening up and turning serious. “And that’s how you punch. I hope you kids never have to. I hope this war ends as soon as possible, so you can go home and be kids and shape London back into the best I know it can be.”

Dum Dum lay still on the ground, his face turning serious, too.

“I hope this never comes around again like this, kids. But if it has to, I hope we don’t forget what we’ve had to live through, and use those memories to help the next kids in trouble. All of them. Because they call me Captain America, but I want to help protect all of you, too. And to do that, we all need to help each other the best we can. Because that’s how you get to be like me.”

He took a breath. “By never forgetting what happens to the small if you don’t fight for them. Okay?”

Peggy looked down at the ground, thinking of the last six weeks. Of the military bases and the freed prisoners and the growing rumors of the camps in the heart of the Nazi occupation. It’d been a hard winter, and the laughter helped, but there wasn’t enough of it.

The crowd was quiet. Then they applauded him again, slower. They heard him. Peggy hoped everyone would hear him.

Meanwhile, she would at least take the memory of the first little boy that ran up and hugged Steve’s knee with her when they rode train out of town again and back into the thick of it.

For them. For the future.

It helped, if a little.

. . .

9/5/2017 All Rights to Marvel. For the Dreamers. We need to try to fight. Now.


End file.
